


A Bird in the Hand

by viridian sprout (idyII)



Series: awakening trio shenanigans [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Azur | Inigo-centric, Chrom is Azur | Inigo's Parent, Dancer Azur | Inigo, Declarations Of Love, F/F, Gen, M/M, Meet the Family, Nohr Traditions, Other, Romantic Gestures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:54:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24619438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idyII/pseuds/viridian%20sprout
Summary: "I told them of my past," Odin said, quite smugly. "I did not divulge my lineage, of course! It is not important to me. Unlike you!""It's not that important to me-""Oh, yes it is," Odin interrupted him, smirking. "Because you don't want the King to find out about it."Laslow felt his face heating, and realized how suspicious this conversation might have looked to any outsider ears. He shushed Odin with a shove to his shoulder. Just because he didn't want anyone treating him differently because he was a prince didn't mean he was being dishonest....or, Laslow's lies eventually catch up to him, and the man interested in him is eventually clued in to who exactly he's courting. The Ylissean trio's past all comes to light, in fact, as it seems whenever someone says their true name their disguise falls and people from their past start showing up.(We all just want good things for Laslow, and really, who wouldn't?)
Relationships: Camilla/Luna | Selena, Lazward | Laslow/Marx | Xander, Leon | Leo/Odin/Zero | Niles
Series: awakening trio shenanigans [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794958
Comments: 14
Kudos: 210





	1. Chapter 1

It was a fine day, with their revamped, not-as-terrifying castle with some actual variation in the drapery instead of straight black curtains everywhere hosting a rather friendly vibe, with sunny skies out and the birds chirping as Laslow walked past a hallway full of open windows, a day on which he wouldn't mind going out to tea, when Odin absolutely _ruined_ his day.

"Comrade!" he yelled, popping out from behind a curtain, which made Laslow wonder just how long he'd been laying in wait there to surprise him. "I have the most wonderful news!"

Ignoring the slight start it had given him- he wouldn't given Odin the satisfaction of knowing he'd surprised him- Laslow gave him an unimpressed stare. "Let me guess," he said, dryly. "Does it have to do with the marks all over your chest you didn't even try to hide last week?"

"I have no other type of attire," Odin informed him cheerfully, slinging an arm through his as he started walking. "But I merely wanted to inform you that Leo and Niles were most interested to hear of my former adventures, and do not think I am, as Niles would put it, an insane walnut!"

Laslow quirked an eyebrow. "That means..." he said, trailing off. "You told them about... _us_?"

"Well, I merely told them that we come from a very far-off country so far away it would take ages to travel to, and summarized many of our adventures, leaving out a few... _key_ details, but the heart of it was there!"

"You did what?" Laslow hissed, hardly believing his ears.

"I told them of my past," Odin replied, quite smugly. "I did not divulge the fact that we come from another world entirely, or my lineage, of course! That detail at the moment is not important to me. Unlike you!"

"It's not that important to me-"

"Oh, yes it is," Odin interrupted him, smirking. "Because you don't want the King to find out about it."

Laslow felt his face heating, and realized how suspicious this conversation might have looked to any outsider ears. He shushed Odin with a shove to his shoulder. Just because he didn't want anyone treating him differently because he was a prince didn't mean he was being dishonest. And really, what was being a prince from another dimension entirely (let alone one that was probably, what, fourth or fifth in line taking into account their younger selves? He didn't even need to worry about it!) worth here in Nohr?

"However, I do plan on telling them that eventually as well."

Laslow stopped and pulled his arm away, glaring. Odin gave him an unrepentant smile. This was usually the crux of their trio's arguments- their trio including Selena- where exactly the lines were concerning what they told their lieges. What was Selena's to tell, what was Odin's, what was Laslow's. "You better not tell them we're related."

"It may come up eventually," Odin told him in a sing-song voice, because he just had to be irritating like that. "I may even call you cousin by accident one day! What if?"

"Odin! You better not!"

"Relax, dear cousin," Odin said with a wave of his hand, which made Laslow twitch, but the hallway was empty. "I will not give you up entirely without your permission. However...don't you think you should be honest?"

He looked at Laslow with what he liked to call the _Soul-Baring Gaze of Truth_. That was an entirely stupid name, but it was even more annoying because it was somewhat accurate. When Odin stopped with the theatrics, and looked at him eye-to-eye, serious, it almost made Laslow feel guilty. Partially because Odin looked genuinely concerned for his well-being, which Laslow always liked to avoid. He didn't want anyone worrying over him.

"I'm fine," he insisted, folding his arms and pursing his lips.

Odin cast him a skeptical look. Laslow was almost offended, but then, he was distracted by the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the hall behind him, and he turned, almost immediately smiling when he caught sight of Xander.

"Good morning, Lord Xander," he said, as if his previous sour mood never existed. "Off to work today?"

"Good morning, Laslow," the king returned with a smile when he caught sight of him, eyes lighting up in a certain kind of way that made Odin want to snicker. "And Odin, as well. And no, not today, actually. I thought we might take a ride into the country. Would that be amenable to you, Laslow?"

"Of course! I'd love to take a ride today," Laslow returned cheerily, which made the soft smile on Xander's face widen. Odin watched as the king left with a raised eyebrow, a half-smirk, and crossed arms as he leaned against the wall, and when he turned around, Laslow scowled at the look on his face. "Wipe that smirk off your face."

"I bet you'd love to take a ride," Odin told him, the smugness returning, and Laslow nearly decked him right there. But he didn't, because their roughhousing sessions often destroyed things around them, especially if Selena got involved, and the chances of her randomly coming across them right then and there were too high since this hallway connected to all of the royal family's respective chambers. "You should tell him that!"

"Shut up, Odin," Laslow hissed out sourly, quite the opposite to his usual impeccable attitude. It wasn't truly hateful, though; he and Owain had bickered like brothers since they were children.

"It's fine," Odin told him with a shrug, pushing off the wall. He lost the teasing look, which meant Laslow couldn't be angry at him anymore, which was also frustrating, and looked at him with a vague hint of concern again. "But as of late he's been acting quite interested in you, and I think it would be cruel to leave him in the dark completely."

Against his will, guilt churned in Laslow's stomach. "H-he has not," was his intelligent retort, which made Odin roll his eyes. Except he was right. Xander had always valued him, from the start, even with his shenanigans in town (though he'd become much more lenient after finding out Laslow's shenanigans were more often than not _not_ his fault, although sometimes he did just annoy people in general to the point they dumped a pint of ale over his head) and treated him like a friend and equal even if he was a retainer. He did the same for Peri, of course, but lately, he'd been taking rides with Laslow, alone, more often, smiling at him more often, and just _noticing_ him more. Laslow didn't know if even the king was completely aware of how he was acting, but clearly there was some spark of interest there. They'd grown closer during the war, and Laslow was a trustworthy ally, and maybe it was a crush born of proximity, but the idea of more made him nervous. Odin had already flown so freely into something _more_ with his own liege and fellow retainer. He was also half convinced Selena was now sleeping in Camilla's chambers, so yes, the idea that two of his friends who also served the royal family had metaphorically moved up the ladder made it feel like it was a little inevitable he would too considering his _own_ little crush. His only solace was the idea that surely Xander couldn't take on a male partner unable to bear children, being the King, being required to create heirs.

"You might take your own advice," he muttered. "Do they know the choice you're making?"

Odin's face drew taut for a moment. "No," he admitted. And Laslow backed off a bit, because he could hear how much it pained him to say that. "But it is not necessary. I don't want them to feel guilty over things they can't control."

"And here you are lecturing me about leaving people in the dark," Laslow pointed out, leaving Odin to give him a haughty sniff and return to his more vibrant self.

"No matter! You are changing the subject. I will see you confess your feelings, my friend! It is healthy! Is is true! _True love!_ "

"Gods, Odin, please stop-"

"Make me!"

"Oh, I'll make you all right," Laslow said, voice filled with orneriness as he poked his cousin in the chest. "You and me in the sparring arena after my ride with Xan- Lord Xander today. Shut up!"

* * *

Odin clearly expected a normal match when he stepped into the ring. There were several sparring spaces, but Laslow had chosen this one on purpose; it was the biggest, and the one any royals used, and when _they_ weren't using it, high-ranking officials in the army did. There were no matches scheduled for this time slot, however, so he lured Odin in as easily as drawing a child with candy.

It was also the most visible, and people standing on the castle balconies could easily watch, and even the entrance to the stables was visible from the ring. And at this time of day, when people were taking their breaks, there would be a crowd to watch. Oh, if Odin wanted to screw with him, Laslow would screw right back.

Okay, bad choice of words.

"Good afternoon, my friend!" Odin predictably bellowed as he swung over the fence, raising an eyebrow at Laslow standing in the center of the arena with folded arms. He'd stripped down to a plain sleeveless undershirt he wore under his leather armor, and there were two swords stuck in the ground in front of him. Laslow saw Odin stroke a thumb across his typical tome used for sparring in thought. "Have something set up, do you?"

"An even playing field," Laslow told him, smirking.

"Why, I _am_ a mage, so I do not believe this is quite even-"

"Oh?" Laslow asked innocently, placing a hand over his heart. "You're saying I'm _better_ than you at swordplay?"

Odin's jaw snapped shut and his eyes narrowed. He had done well to act just as a mage, and not much else, during his time in Nohr, though Laslow had caught instances of Niles and Leo's eyes trailing on him as he moved and the suspicion that laid underneath. Odin couldn't erase the years of muscle memory he had as both a fighter and dancer taught by Inigo himself. He moved with a fluid grace, evading attacks with footwork that was clearly practiced, and Laslow thought that his partners had a clear wonder about it.

_Time to be honest, cousin!_

Odin might have laughingly conceded if he was still completely devoted to his ruse, but now that he was being more _honest_ , Laslow suspected his pride wouldn't let him. Laslow was being a little shit. Odin could clearly feel the challenge.

"Well, if you insist," Odin said with a razor-sharp smile, throwing the tome behind him so far it landed beyond the edge of the arena. Laslow could already see people starting to stop and look over at them. With one hand poised on his hip, Odin strode over to him, grasped one of the swords embedded in the ground, pulled it up and strode back over a fair distance away before facing him and falling into a one-handed stance. "Your move, my friend."

"My pleasure," Inigo said with a smile, grasping his own sword.

In a heartbeat, they were lunging at each other, steel ringing out across the yard as they clashed together. The fact they were using real blades instead of practice swords just added to the appeal, as people were already running to get others to watch. Laslow hated being the center of attention, but when it came to something like a fight, or dancing on a stage, he could take his mind elsewhere, and feel the thrill of it.

They danced across the ring, thrusting and blocking and parrying, and Odin truly hadn't lost any of his edge. Laslow had suspected he practiced in private to keep up with it. He had fallen in love with swords long before he'd had to use one to protect himself, after all. In what felt like seconds, minutes passed as they both worked up a sweat, neither giving any ground.

"Come on!" a voice he distinctly recognized as a giddy Corrin called out. "Laslow and Odin are fighting!"

Laslow wasn't looking at the crowd- that was always a mistake, and he'd learned not to when he was dancing- but he did catch a flash of auburn hair at some point on his right when he went into a twirl. Ah, so Selena was there. She was probably going to chew them out for showing off after this.

But he couldn't help but show off. He wasn't completely unaware of his station. His performance reflected on Xander, and Laslow would die before making him look bad. He could also simply feel the fires of competition running through his veins, and he didn't want to admit defeat to Odin of all people. They had always been neck and neck.

That was why ( _completely_ why) he was being flashier than usual, moving with more of the grace learned from his mother rather than brute force or moving head on. He did lock blades with his cousin at one point, however, and stood there seeing who would give first, staring into his eyes with a large grin.

They ended up shoving off of each other, neither able to end the stale mate, but Laslow had the misfortune of being closer to the fence at that point, which meant he had little room to move when Odin slashed at him. Instead of trying to duck, he turned, planted a hand on the fence, and flipped over, balancing on his one hand and giving Odin a cheeky smile.

"Careful not to lose your balance, my rival!" Odin yelled at him, and then leaped onto the fence too. Laslow flipped, landing with an ease that could only be described as water-like, and turned to back up as Odin advanced on him and they fought on the fence. They had a considerable crowd now, which meant his overall plan of _expose Odin Dark as the lying little swordsman he is_ was going quite well.

Now it really was more like an acrobatic act as they went back and forth, at one point twirling around each other so they ended up perched on opposite sides of the fence, and Laslow had to bite down on his surprise when a blur came flying out of nowhere and struck down in between them. It was Selena, having shed most of her layers, no doubt to not have an advantage armor-wise, and her strike had cleaved through all three boards of the fence like butter.

She looked up at him with a cocky smirk. "What," she said loudly, hardly heeding their audience, "you didn't think I'd let you have fun without me, did you?"

After a half a moment, Laslow chuckled and twirled his sword in challenge. "Another challenger!" Odin hooted, raising his fist. "Come, then!"

They all lunged at each other and became tangled in a vicious three-way fight. Despite the danger of their (very sharp, very well-kept) blades, none of them had gotten cut yet, evidence of how well-matched they were.

At some point, however, Odin did slice the shoulder of Selena's top, and the woman's hand darted up to hold onto it before it exposed more of her flesh. They all paused at three points in the ring, panting by now, but not quite out of breath yet. "Careful there, my friend!" Odin called out jovially. "It'll rip!"

Selena practically bared her teeth at him. It already had, at this point, Laslow could see, and if she moved her hand that side of her shirt was going to flop down and expose her breast. He was about to offer a temporary ceasefire to give her his own, or go fetch one for her, when she started clawing at it, ripping the shirt off and throwing it aside. "As if shit like that matters!"

More than a few whistles sounded from the crowd. Laslow felt his jaw drop, though it wasn't his friend's (they were practically family, at this point, really) bosom he was staring at. He was just shocked.

Odin clearly was too, as he barely blocked Selena's next strike and yelped at the sheer force behind it. Just like that, their fight was on again, and Laslow couldn't help but laugh as he jumped in.

"Gods, Severa, you never change!"

Selena happened to be pressing on his sword when he said it, and it wasn't loud enough that just anyone could have heard it, but still, the slip surprised him. He was usually better about things like that. What was more surprising, though, was the instant reaction it garnered.

Selena's hair started to glow, rising from her back and floating in midair as the auburn bled back to the natural red it had always been before Nohr. The trio stood there frozen, eyes wide, and Selena's shocked gaze bore into him as he stood there in mute shock.

Her hair settled again, back into a normal ponytail, just as its original color instead of her disguise.

"...oh," she breathed, eyes going livid, and Laslow gulped. "You _motherfucker!_ _You better pick a god and pray!_ "


	2. Chapter 2

Selena looked quite sour as she sat on a bed in the castle's main branch of the medical wing. They'd given her a plain white shirt to wear, and otherwise bandaged the few small scrapes and bruises they'd all acquired, and all right, Laslow had to admit they'd gone overboard. After he'd pissed his friend off enough for her to pull out _the_ catchphrase, they'd practically demolished the ring, and eventually had to call a ceasefire when they were too tired to raise their weapons. Out of all people, a still giddy-looking Corrin had been the one to appear and lead them inside, apparently finding the state of them quite funny.

Still, it was funny seeing Selena's infamous pout back on her lips as she sat there with folded arms.

"I'm sorry?" he tried, smiling sheepishly when she glared at him. "I'm really sorry? I'll buy you tea?"

"Surely it's not that big a deal, my friend," Odin said from the other end of the bed Laslow sat on, legs folded under him. "Your natural color is beautiful!"

"Whatever," Selena muttered, still sulking. That was when Laslow heard the door open, and a near-audible _swoosh_ as someone swept into the room. It proved to be Camilla two seconds later, as she descended on her (retainer? friend? lover?) in her over-the-top way, pulling Selena's head to her bosom as she folded her arms around her.

"Oh, my dear Selena," she cooed, either not noticing or flat out ignoring the flush on Selena's face. "Are you all right? That was quite the show you put on outside!"

"I-I'm sorry, my lady," Selena muttered, to no avail, face still pressed against Camilla's skin.

"Oh, it's all right, it's only Odin and Laslow here! You can speak freely! I must say, I was so impressed, but the hair change was a surprise...not a bad one, however, my dear, you look _beautiful!_ Why did you not tell me you had red hair originally?"

"Uh, it didn't seem to, um, come up," Selena continued, and Laslow had to stifle a laugh. Then he paused, wondering if that meant Selena had told _Camilla_ about their previous lives. Had everyone told the person they served except him?! "I honestly didn't even know it could change back."

"Well, I suppose receiving a magic disguise from a weird man and traveling to another country does leave more important things to think about," Camilla said, finally giving the redhead a little breathing room as she leaned back and started reflexively petting said red hair. "But what prompted this change, I wonder?"

"Ah, that would be our dearest Laslow," Odin interrupted with a chuckle, making Camilla raise an eyebrow at him. Laslow flushed, wondering if it would be too obvious to throw a pillow at his cousin's head. "He slipped up and called Selena by her original name, something even I have not done since we arrived here!"

That obviously piqued the princess's interest, as she looked at her (yes, definitely lover's) face intently with a keen look in her eyes. "Original name? Well, I suppose that makes sense, if you were using a disguise- please do tell me I didn't make you feel too uncomfortable to tell me, dear?"

"N-not in the slightest!" Selena burst out, which again made Laslow want to snicker. "H-honestly, I just didn't think about it...Selena wasn't just a fake name, it became a part of me, too, the part that knew _you_..." Then she seemed to realize what she'd said, and how sappy it sounded, and turned a deeper red, ducking her head.

Camilla looked so adoring as she clasped her hands together, a strand of red hair still caught between them, that Laslow was surprised her body hadn't spontaneously started oozing honey. "That's so _sweet_! And I would be glad to know you by any name, my dear, but truly, if you want to use the one that is yours by birthright, I would be honored."

Selena's eyes trailed on the floor as she thought about it, and she hesitantly looked up at Camilla through her lashes. "Well...I suppose that wouldn't be so bad. It's...Severa."

"Severa. What a lovely name...I feel as if I've known it from the start."

Okay, Laslow had to look away now, biting his cheek to hide a smile, because they were getting so lovey-dovey as they stared at each other he would have to tease Selena- Severa- about it later.

He jumped when Odin let out a loud cry. "Ah!" he yelled, leaping to his feet. "That reminds me! I should tell Leo and Niles of _my_ name!" He'd positively lit up, like he'd had a grand revelation, and he turned to grin at Laslow. "You should tell yours to the king, my friend."

"I like how I look now, thanks," Laslow blurted out quickly, nearly squeaking at Camilla's interested look.

"Oh? I quite agree, Laslow, I think you _should_ tell my brother your name," she purred, and he had to shiver at the feeling of something stalking him like he was a fresh meal her stare gave off. "I won't force you, of course! I just think you should _think_ about it..."

 _She definitely knows too much,_ Laslow thought, already near sweating, as Odin twirled around with a still beaming face.

"Farewell for now, my friends! I must away at once and find my partners in crime and love! Until I see you again!"

 _Are they really all being so blatant about it?_ Laslow thought, his whole body feeling as though it was flushed by now, as Odin pranced out to find his 'partners in love' and Camilla still coddled Severa in front of him. Had he just not been paying attention? No, no, this was probably the honeymoon phase- that would explain the abundance of affection.

They were also only really being 'blatant' in front of him. Laslow wondered if his two friends had babbled about his...crush? Irresponsible lapse of duty? Either way, he could kill them if they had.

"I'll just leave you two alone, then!" he chirped as cheerfully as he could, sliding off the hospital bed and giving them a polite smile. Then he bolted, like a hound towards hell, as polite as he could, of course.

He was barely three steps outside the door when something heavy dropped onto him, sending him crashing to the floor. His cheek smacked into the stone, and he groaned, wishing he was wearing his breastplate. At least it would've caught him a little.

Wondering at what could have possibly fallen onto him, he rolled over, sliding to his knees in the process, one hand rubbing at his head just as the thing that had 'fallen' onto him was doing the same. Blinking to make sure he wasn't hallucinating, he gaped at the person in front of him, hardly believing his eyes.

" _Morgan?!"_

"Oh!" the girl crowed, as if she hadn't just come crashing out of nowhere onto him. "There you are! Aha, it worked..."

She opened the tome in her hands and quickly scanned a few lines, and Laslow didn't know which was more ridiculous: her appearance, or her being so... _Morgan_ about it. "Where the devil did you come from?" he demanded, getting to his feet and dragging her with him. "I- you- gods above, Morgan!"

"Oh, right!" As if she was surprised, she looked up from the tome and smiled, beaming. "I've been looking for you! For quite a while! And...wait, what happened to your hair, Ini-?"

Laslow quickly slapped a hand over her mouth. She let out a muffled noise of surprise. "You cannot say that name," he explained, miming with a finger over his lips as she blinked at him. "As for my hair and such, it's a disguise, and part of why you cannot say that name, and must call me Laslow instead. But Morgan, how did you-?"

She reached up and moved his hand, beaming at him once more, and jumped forward to hug him. Warmly, he returned it, glad to see someone from his family after so long away, petting her head a few times just to make sure she was real.

"Oh, Father and I have been studying for a while," she said into his chest, starting on a ramble. "I thought to myself, well, if I can't find you, I can make a spell to find you! But I couldn't find your presence anywhere, so I thought, maybe you were somewhere else, like those places the Outrealm Gate can access, and I've been working for quite a while, but it turns out traveling between worlds isn't quite as hard as you might think! I was even trying to make a tunnel that's more stable and permanent, like the Gate! Isn't that interesting? I found a rather bleak looking place with ogres before this, it wasn't that fun-"

"Oh, Morgan," Laslow sighed, leaning his forehead into her hair. "How I've missed you and your magical ranting."

"Oh! This means I've found cousin Owain as well, haven't I? Well, you three all disappeared at once, so I assumed you were in the same place-"

"Yes, yes you have. Severa, Owain and I are all here. Just heed my warning about not using my name, all right?"

"Of course, brother," she said, like he was asking a five-year-old not to ask silly questions, and leaned away just enough to give him that scatterbrained smile of hers. "Whatever you ask!"

Laslow's brain caught up to his emotions after a moment of staring. Heart practically stopping, he stared down at her with wide eyes. "Wait, did you say- a tunnel of some sorts? Do you mean we may actually be able to- to return home, and come back here?"

"Well, that's what I was hoping!"

He breathed out a heavy sigh. "Morgan, I..."

It was then he heard a familiar humming coming around the corner. He looked up, just in time to see Peri pause and take in the scene before her, and then immediately reach for her hammer, a shout echoing in the hallway.

"WHO IS THIS?"

Morgan let out an interested hum, but didn't so much as startle, which Laslow still wasn't sure was self-confidence or lack of self-preservation. "Peri?" he asked, nearly squeaking, as he was unsure why she was suddenly so angry-looking.

"Who're you?" Peri repeated, expression thunderous. "Are you trying to steal Laslow?"

"Steal Laslo-"

"Like those women in the market!"

"Peri," Laslow said, feeling a little hysterical, "this is my little sister. I swear she isn't trying to steal me away."

Peri paused, anger evaporating at the drop of a hat. "Oh!" she exclaimed, then lit up with a smile. "Wait, you have a little sister? And she's HERE?! And you didn't TELL ME? LASLOW!"

Morgan waved, a- frankly- mildly air-headed smile on her face as she waved. It was trickery, Laslow was convinced. "Hello! I'm Morgan!"

"I'm Peri! Sorry about yelling! I thought you were one of those evil people who try to steal Laslow away to hurt him!"

 _What?_ Laslow thought, wondering if this was just Peri insanity or if there was something specific behind it.

"I completely understand," Morgan said, solemn and serious. "Half his dates do kidnap him, rob him, and leave him tied to trees, after all..."

Laslow's face flushed. All right, so what if he had some bad luck? And it was certainly bad luck that Morgan had said that, because he could tell by Peri's expression this was going to feed into her paranoia about someone trying to lure him away for dark purposes. "That's terrible! I'll crush anyone who tries! See, Laslow?! You should stay in the _castle_ ," she said, very pointedly, as she gave him an intense stare. It was a little intimidating, especially since he didn't know what she meant by that. " _In._ The _castle_."

"Speaking of the castle," Laslow said, internally thankful for the convenient segue, as he planted his hands on his sister's shoulders and pushed her forward. "Peri, could you do me a really big favor and, well, for lack of better term, keep an eye on my sister? Not that I don't trust you, Morgan, but the castle is quite large, and it's very easy to get lost if you don't know the way."

"Of course!" Peri exclaimed. "Don't you worry about it, Laslow, I'll be her new buddy!"

"I like your hair," Morgan said, smiling. "It's like my brother's."

"But Laslow's is grey...?"

"I'll be speaking with Lord Xander," Laslow blurted out, and then hurried to get away from them, before they forgot he needed to leave and started to batter him with questions. He was probably walking away from a ticking time bomb, but, well, he didn't see any other choice. He really needed to speak with Xander before someone said something to him first.

* * *

Conveniently, Laslow almost ran into the man he was looking for when he rounded the final corner to Xander's chambers. He jerked to a stop, a startled noise leaving his throat, and felt embarrassed at just how jumpy he was. He'd probably been less jumpy in the actual goddamn war.

"Laslow!" Xander exclaimed, looking at him with raised eyebrows. "I'm sorry if I startled you, my friend. I was just about to come see you. Are you..." His eyes darted down, probably appraising Laslow's lack of regular attire, and he felt another flush of embarrassment. "Recovered from your...bout?"

"Oh, I'm quite fine," Laslow stammered, chastising himself for sounding foolish. "Actually, I was about to come talk to you too. I thought there might be some...things we should...talk about."

Xander's eyebrows climbed higher. He was obviously noticing how uncomfortable Laslow was; he lowered his voice, angling himself slightly, so the way to his room wasn't so obstructed. "Would you prefer to talk in my quarters?"

"Well, yes, it would probably be better had there."

"Of course," Xander said, then backtracked and opened the door for him. That was backwards; Laslow should have been the one opening the door for him, but he felt too awkward to say anything about it.

He felt awkward walking inside, too, as he came to a stop in front of the desk and stood there not knowing what to do with his hands. Xander stopped beside him and pulled out one of the two chairs in front of the desk, brow furrowed, and gave him a searching look. "Please sit, Laslow. You can tell me anything you wish, I assure you."

 _Right,_ Laslow thought, sighing as he slid into the chair. Xander sat down beside him, waiting for him to speak, and he swallowed before he began. "Well, I thought I should come tell you some things before you simply heard about them. I didn't want you to think I was trying to deceive you."

"What?" Xander's eyebrows shot up again, and he looked so trusting Laslow wanted to cringe. Did he really deserve that trust? "Laslow, I would never assume such, I swear to you. Did something happen?"

"Well." He paused for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. Sometimes they were like the stars in the night sky, his father had once told him. Scattered and apart, Robin said, but if he could make the connections, he could see the constellations. "My sister's here, for one."

Xander looked at him in surprise. "You have a sister?"

Laslow grimaced. "Yes," he replied. "Two, in fact. And I'm afraid that ties into a rather longer, and mildly convoluted, story. Have you ever heard of...time travel, my lord?"

* * *

Laslow thought he was telling the story in the least efficient way. He had a tendency to ramble, just when it wasn't his purpose, unlike Morgan, and he thought he could have condensed it some. He just found that once he started telling it he wanted to tell it all, all the details, even as he tried to downplay his own role. He didn't mention that he was of royal blood; it wasn't of note, in his opinion. And, to his credit, Xander took it in stride, simply sitting there with a pensive look the entire time.

"And I thought I should tell you, since Severa and Owain have most likely told the whole thing to Lady Camilla and Lord Leo by now," he said, finally starting to finish, as he fought off the urge to grimace a little. He felt like he'd been railroaded a bit, forced to tell the king before details inevitably leaked out (Camilla and Leo weren't gossips, but these things just happened naturally), since his siblings already knew. "Or Odin. It wasn't clear what name he's going to go by now."

"I see," Xander said, still leaning against his steepled hands, something he always did when he was deep in thought. "So I assume you have a different name, then, my friend?"

Laslow's stomach flipped. "Yes, I do, but it isn't important," he said with a wave of his hand. "I don't really need to use it."

Xander's eyebrow cocked. "You do not wish to be your true self?"

Laslow _did_ , but he didn't, he didn't want anything to change. He was probably only delaying the inevitable, he thought. But if things could stay as they were just for a little longer- "I don't think I've changed that much. Besides, I wasn't anyone of worthy note. I like the dye job, you know?" He tried for a silly smile, though Xander clearly didn't believe him in full, and sat there studying him.

"Well," he said after a prolonged pause, "if you say so. Do what makes you most comfortable, Laslow. If that is the name you wish to be known by, then that is that. But if you do wish to use your original name, you can. I want you to know that." He looked into Laslow's eyes, oddly intense, yet soft at the same time. "You really can share anything with me that you wish."

Laslow's throat closed up. It was one of those moments, he thought, that made him feel things for Xander he probably shouldn't. Xander had a million things to worry over, and whether Laslow felt comfortable sharing every minute detail of his life probably shouldn't have been high on the list, yet he still took the time to give it attention.

Xander unfolded his hands, then settled them on his lap, then opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, coming off as hesitant for some unknown reason. Laslow had never known him to be very hesitant, but he didn't speak with quite the usual confidence as he continued. "Laslow, I..."

Laslow found himself holding his breath, waiting to see what he had to say, and he became acutely aware of the fact they were alone together, with not another soul in the room, and all that breath came rushing out when the door flew open. He turned, both disappointed and almost glad for the interruption, as Peri came skipping in.

"Laslow! Lord Xander! Before anyone tells you about it," she said, oddly serious, "I'm _really_ sorry."

Morgan came through after her looking quite serene and relaxed. Laslow slapped a hand over his face and groaned. He _knew_ leaving them alone together wasn't a good idea. "What did you do," he asked, though it came out not so much as a question.

"Well, Morgan is my new best friend and I'll never ever ever even think of crushing her! But there's a giant mess in the kitchen downstairs...it was an accident, I swear!"

All right. Maybe Morgan being there was going to cause more problems than solutions at this rate.


	3. Chapter 3

"Well this is a most certainly confusing conundrum," Odin- or Owain, as he was going by now- said when they arrived at the door to his chambers to show Morgan around and two Nohrian knights were standing there in wait for him. They said nothing but "From your admirer," in an overly polite tone, before bowing and leaving as quickly as was allowed, after hoisting a gigantic bouquet of pale golden flowers off on the mage. 

Laslow wasn't sure what kind they were, but they were rather attractive. Owain just looked them over with a smile, then looked back at them, chuckling. "It looks as though my Leo was feeling sentimental today!"

And after that, none of them really thought more about it after Owain set them somewhere in the sunlight in his room and started going over tomes with Morgan. Laslow had been forced to make her promise three times that she wouldn't wander out of the castle and get lost. Really, for all the magical genius she'd inherited from their father, she could be quite...well, like Laslow sometimes. Maybe that was what they got from Chrom. 

Laslow ended up leaving Morgan there while the two mages got far too into their ramblings to notice him and Severa leave; then the same thing happened when they rounded the corner leading to her chambers and found two knights muttering to each other and adjusting the red roses in their arms. Laslow caught something about "-I made sure it's right-" before they both straightened like they'd been caught committing a felony, deposited the flowers into Severa's arms, and trotted off.

Red in the face, Severa gave a small huff and avoided his eyes. "Camilla's probably just being clingy again," she muttered, but Laslow definitely caught her happy little smile as she went inside to arrange them somewhere she'd see them every time she came and went. 

Still, Laslow didn't think too much of either event. They were romantic gestures, and sending flowers was always a classic. Though it was too bad no one was sending him flowers...

No, no, bad train of thought. That would certainly lead nowhere good.

They changed their clothes, both hungry to get into something fresher and more befitting two retainers, and ambled back in the direction of Owain's quarters. That one decision gave Laslow one of the most delightful, hilarious things he would ever see.

"So you just use arrows?"

"Well, yes-"

"I've always thought archers were just long-distance stabbers."

"Long-distance-"

"Have you thought about putting a knife in the bow? You could probably do that, right? Well, you don't look strong enough...I bet you aren't..."

Niles' jaw twitched as he tried and failed to show his usual suave patience with the girl in front of him. Somewhere beyond them near the bookshelves, Leo was watching with an amused smile, and Owain was merely laughing quietly to himself as he flipped through a book. 

"You'll get nowhere if you're trying to use your wily ways of the tongue on my cousin, Niles."

"What's a wily way of the tongue?" Morgan asked, and when Niles opened his mouth, completely bowled over his answer. "Oh, you mean like tying a cherry stem inside your mouth into a knot? I bet you aren't very good at that, though, you've only got one eye."

"What has _that_ got to do with-!" Niles cried, losing his composure, while Morgan smiled serenely at him, and he let out a harsh breath, trying to return to his usual demeanor. "Well, of no matter. You say you are our dear Owain's cousin?"

It was at that moment Laslow realized Owain had been a dirty little snitch after all. _Dammit, Owain!_

"Surely you must know many things about him, then," Niles purred, obviously trying to lead Morgan into saying something, whether it be damning towards herself (be she a secret spy) or simply embarrassing about Owain. 

Morgan's smile never faltered. "Of course I do, silly! He's like my second big brother! Don't you know how family works?" she asked, like he was dumb, and Laslow caught Leo turning away to hide his growing smile as Niles started twitching again. 

"Well, I certainly know how _making_ one works."

Owain rolled his eyes, opening his mouth and about to chastise him for being crass in front of his cousin, but Morgan plowed on. "So do I, obviously! Who doesn't?"

"Oh?" Niles smirked at her, eyebrow raising, like he'd caught her out. "Why don't you explain it to me, then?"

That was his great downfall, Laslow thought. "I don't think I need to explain fucking to you," Morgan chirped, making Niles start like she'd just slapped him. Then, something darker, more razor-edged entered her smile, inexplicably. "Are you fucking my big brother?"

"Uh," said Niles, before Owain swept over and wrapped an arm around his cousin and pseudo little sister's shoulders with a broken laugh.

"Enough of that, I believe! Dearest Morgan, I do believe Peri requires your help in the most dangerous of quests- helping the head cook _fix the kitchen floor_. Are you up for this arduous task?"

"Of course I am! If I can gut a bear with a pocket knife, I can fix some flooring." Maybe it was the mention of the time she'd scared Frederick so badly he'd refused to come out of his tent for more than a day, or the way her smile became so fixed and unmoving, but Niles veered away half a step and she turned to skip out of the room. 

Owain patted Niles on the shoulder sympathetically. "You'll never win, not against her," he said, like he was a man taking on an insurmountable challenge. 

Niles rolled his eyes and looked away, just as Leo came up behind him, the smile still there, though dulled in intensity. "I'm happy to meet one of your relatives, Owain," he mentioned, the name sounding like it was something he was getting used to. Laslow supposed they were both so used to Odin, they would probably slip up and just switch between them sometimes. "Though, doesn't this mean you're a cousin to Laslow as well?"

Three pairs of eyes flitted over to him. Severa was no help, just leaning against the wall and watching him with a taunting look. "Yes, unfortunately," he said with a put-upon sigh, placing a hand to his forehead. "I've dealt with this my entire life. You've no idea the ridiculous games he forced me into when we were children."

"Hoy there! You were certainly amenable to those games when you got to be the distressed performer the rest of us got to rescue," Owain told him, chastising, which made Leo raise an eyebrow and Niles gain that infamous shark-like expression of "I just heard someone say something potentially embarrassing."

"Distressed performer?" he pressed, which Laslow ignored.

"Anyway. There are more interesting things than my relation to this sometimes buffoon, sometimes competent mage. Like his little fibbing about not being able to use a sword."

That was a successful diversion. Niles turned back to his lover in question, voice dropping into something smooth that made red creep up Owain's neck. " _Yes,_ Odin, you _did_ neglect to tell us just how good with _swords_ you are. That was some charming footwork, wasn't it?"

"It's a useful skill," Leo butted in. "Frankly, I'd suspected for a while you knew more than you let on but you are on par with even our best knights in the army. No, better, I'd say. You were holding out on me, Owain."

It was said teasingly, but Owain had still begun to blush, stammering a little. "It's nothing, really...my sword hand has been thirsting for blood since I was a child. There is simply no containing such a thing!" Then he quickly backtracked, clearly not wanting the attention on himself for too long, and put on a grin. "But anyway, you came to ask something of me, Leo? What was it?"

"Oh! Right-" Honestly, seeing the usually-composed Prince of Nohr jump like Leo did was a little funny. Laslow found himself biting down on his lip to restrain a smile. "I suppose it is convenient after all, that Laslow is your cousin, since these things are usually done with a chaperone..."

Owain's eyebrow quirked. "Chaperone?"

Niles gave him a smug look, like he was about to endure something he himself had. Laslow knew the exact look because it was all too similar to how siblings looked at each other when the other was about to get punished instead of them. 

Leo looked embarrassed. Cheeks tinted pink, took one of Owain's hands and turned it over, depositing something from his pocket into it. It was a necklace, Laslow could see, short enough it would be in plain view and not hidden beneath a shirt (though Owain didn't exactly wear a shirt one could hide anything under), just not quite a choker. It was much like other Nohrian jewelry he'd seen Camilla and Elise wear, black, though it also had gold stones inlaid. For some reason, Camilla and Elise usually didn't add onto the black. 

"Typically, in Nohr, a noble of my standing should make a proposal before courting anyone seriously," Leo went on, still looking embarrassed. "We sort of...skipped past that. I admit we did the same when Niles and I...got together." Behind him, Niles snickered, obviously tickled with the entire thing. "So here is where I would ask you if you would be so kind as to accept my advances."

Owain stared at him for a moment before letting out a laugh, though not a cruel one. "Leo, we are already together! Why would I not?"

"Exactly. Which means I have to catch up on things, _again..._ "

Laslow couldn't help but snicker to himself, very quietly. He didn't know what 'courting' looked like in Nohr, but apparently Leo had a tendency to jump the gun on matters of the heart. He couldn't help but find that funny, as he was such a bookworm one would assume was cautious. 

He lifted Owain's hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. Predictably, Owain's face heated, and Laslow thought of the silly games they'd played as teenagers to get their minds off of...well, the end of the world. Royalty, fairy-tale romance, it had all been silly thoughts back then, and they'd all taken turns playing out silly plots from the few novels leftover after Ylisse fell and playing the part of the shining prince (or princess) in armor saving a damsel (or bachelor), kissing their hand, and getting a happy ending none of them were privileged to in the real world. More often than not Gerome had gotten stuck playing the prince because of his cool demeanor and general aesthetic, even though it embarrassed him to all hell. 

He caught Severa looking away with a tiny smile. She was probably thinking the same. It was ironic, but a little sweet, that Owain got to have it- it being a romance that would end happily, that is- play out. 

And really, he thought it was sweet, but by the time he and Severa headed toward the kitchen to check on Morgan and Peri and instead ran into Camilla ready to whisk her retainer into a library to do the exact same thing, Laslow was starting to sense a pattern.

* * *

 _Now this is just getting ridiculous,_ Laslow thought as he gazed down at the main entrance to the castle from a short balcony, and he didn't mean ridiculous in the sense that it was bad, only in how much it resembled a fairy tale romance novel. Truly, he was happy for Severa, and thought the way she was currently blushing like a tomato and stammering to form any response was adorable, but it did seem a bit...over the top.

"Will you do me the greatest honor of leaving my service for an even higher calling, as my friend, my confidant, my beloved, of becoming my betrothed, should the coming months please you?" Camilla cooed, holding one of Severa's hands and down on one knee, as Nohrians watched with excited expressions. 

"U-u-uh, o-of course I w-will," Severa stuttered out, positively as red as her hair. 

Camilla kissed her hand. "Then you do me the greatest service in and of that! I swear my loyalty, to honor and protect you, and to serve you, just as you have done for me. Come here, my darling!"

Severa was practically swooning in embarrassment at this point, but somehow (miraculously, in Laslow's opinion) managed to stay upright and conscious while Camilla stood up and planted a kiss on her lips, then gently guided Severa's hand to hold her arm like they were entering a ball of some sort as they returned inside. It was definitely not how a retainer would act with her mistress, but he supposed Severa wasn't a retainer any longer, and...

Oh. There was a pattern here.

 _Just how much do I not know about weird Nohr traditions?_ he thought, sweating a little as he turned and started towards a door. He should probably warn Owain before Leo descended on him in public. _Is this a thing? Do they do this every time?_

"So romantic," a maid gushed as he passed, hands pressed to her cheeks. "I'm so happy the princess has found someone so loyal!"

"I'm impressed! Lady Camilla's declared is just as gorgeous as she is!" a servant said in reply. "I hope no one challenges her."

_Declared? Do they declare it? Challenges? Are there rules and stuff?_

"Ah!" crowed the very person he was looking for as he rounded a corner, the happy face of Owain greeting him. "Dearest Laslow! I heard there was quite a commotion involving Lady Camilla and Severa a few minutes ago, would you happen to know-"

"Owain," Laslow interrupted, placing his hands on his shoulders with a grimace. Owain paused, raising an eyebrow at him. "Have you seen Leo since we spoke in your chambers?"

"Uh...no?"

"Just...be prepared," Laslow sighed. "For anything."

Owain gave him a crooked smile. "You make it sound as if I'm about to walk into the jaws of death," he joked, then faltered when Laslow didn't so much as chuckle. "I'm not, are I?"

"Not...necessarily. But I know that you aren't always the most...comfortable...being the...center of attention...in public..."

That was one way to put it. Owain was a lot like Laslow himself: when he was up on stage, or wearing the mask of being a flirt, nothing could ruffle his feathers, but when something involved his true self, he got embarrassed easily. Owain could put on quite a show, literally and figuratively, and could definitely deal with getting attention on the battlefield, but when it came to matters of love, Laslow suspected he got just as embarrassed as he did.

"O...kay," Owain finally said, looking mildly concerned as Laslow let go of him and kept walking. 

He was on his way to the mess hall when he caught sight of a familiar face that could answer his questions without making fun of him...too much. "Oh, Lady Corrin!" he called out, making the woman pause on her way inside and glance back. "A word, if you have the time?"

Corrin smiled as she made her way over to him. "Always time for you, Laslow," she said. Laslow frankly wasn't quite sure why she was so fond of him, but she seemed to like him. "Did you need something?"

"Well, to be honest," Laslow replied, already embarrassed, "I hope you can shed some light on...recent events regarding my fellow retainers. We aren't from Nohr, you see, so..."

She blinked, then her expression lit up. "Oh! Oh, I understand- you're not familiar with courting in Nohr, are you?" At his shake of his head, she chuckled and folded her arms, settling in the pleasant sunlight streaming in through the window they stood under. "Well, it's not always practiced- not for relationships that aren't serious, or generally secret, and it wasn't always seen as appropriate for same gender partners...and King Garon, well, he hadn't practiced tradition in a long time, but they are old traditions. I think that the war simply cast them, like everything else, under such a dark haze people almost forgot...but I think my brothers and sisters still take them seriously, when it comes to marriage."

"Ah," Laslow breathed, "so it does involve marriage?"

"At some point, yes. With no other political threats to the throne, Camilla and Leo don't feel pressed at all to hide the gender of their lovers, and so I think they want to do things all official, call back to better times..." Here, Corrin chuckled, looking fond. "So, let's say that you're a princess, marrying into the Nohrian family. A prince would typically extend a gift first, flowers of the color of the princess' hair, then an offer in private. Then at some point he would declare it in public, and they would be considered walking towards marriage for a few months, during which anyone else would be free to challenge him for the princess' hand without repercussions."

"And how does that apply to..." Laslow waved his hand, confused, trying to encompass the entire situation. "And- why?"

Corrin rolled her eyes. "Well, marriages with same gender couples weren't _entirely_ uncommon, just...kept more hush-hush. It applies no matter the gender of any participants. Elise would have to do the same for a prince, for example. It's about...how do I put this..." She sighed, looking at the ceiling, hands drifting to her hips. "Nohr has always been so powerful, that anyone marrying into the family was literally seen as being taken _into_ the _family_. They would become of Nohr, live in Nohr, never the other way around. So as a sort of...power balance, they put these rules in place, however long ago, to protect people, so they couldn't just be snatched up and married off. Of course, it's tradition, now, not rules, but it's seen as romantic, you know? It's telling the person, I'm going to love and protect you, no matter what. And for the challenging thing, well, I guess Nohr does have a history of just wanting to show off, but that too was also an opportunity for someone to free someone from an engagement without starting a war. Traditions, you know? They're complicated."

"I guess," Laslow said, feeling a bit uncomfortable as he stood there with people milling about still talking under their breath. He felt out of place, like there was still so much about Nohr he didn't understand. "Does Hoshido have traditions like that?"

"Oh, you bet," Corrin told him with a giggle, grabbing his arm. "But that's a whole other discussion. Let's eat instead!"

He let her pull him off towards the mess hall, deciding to stop worrying about traditions and such and just focus on something more fun: food. 

Of course, it was just his rotten luck that someone fell from out of nowhere straight onto him as he was walking inside. Of course it ended up being someone following after Morgan's damned experiment.


	4. Chapter 4

"If _one other person_ lands on me in their misguided attempts to get here, then I'm going to be very unhappy," Laslow said with a scowl as he sat on the ground, still rubbing at his head even though it didn't hurt.

"Look, I already said I was sorry, all right? I wadn't tryna hit ya!" cried Brady, whose sorry mug may have been a sight for sore eyes but preferably not after he'd come crashing onto him like Morgan had. Then he startled to sniffle. Great. Laslow absolutely could not let him start crying, or else he would too. "Y-you could at least pretend yer glad to see me..."

Laslow sighed. "I _am_ glad to see you, Brady, truly," he said, as gently as he could, which made his cousin perk up a little.

"Really?" he asked, fiddling with his staff, seemingly oblivious to the small crowd of people who had gathered around. He was awfully like Morgan sometimes.

"Really! I missed you! But like I said, call me _Laslow,_ okay?"

"I don't see why I gotta, but fine," Brady muttered, pouting to himself. Corrin was standing behind him a few feet, head tilted curiously, smiling.

"Clear a path!" A loud voice commanded, making her smile flutter into a grin. Laslow looked up and saw Xander's blond hair easily even from the ground as he came striding into the mess hall, servants and knights bustling out of his way; as soon as he saw him on the floor, his face turned to one of concern as he quickened his stride to get over to them. "Laslow! Are you hurt?"

Laslow realized someone must have run off to get the nearest healer in all the commotion- which was Elise, considering she was following her brother, which was probably why he was there to begin with- and he must have looked injured still, just sitting there on the floor. "Don't worry, milord, I'm fine!" he tried to insist, raising his hands, while Brady hunched near the shadows cast on the wall nearby and eyed them all suspiciously. "Just took a little fall."

Xander stopped in front of him and frowned, giving Brady a once-over, apparently deeming him not a threat since he took his hand off the hilt of his sword and offered it instead to Laslow. Laslow let himself be pulled up, deciding not to focus on how easily he was, or the way Xander was looking him over. "This here is Brady," he said with a gesture, making his cousin's neck start to heat up as people looked at him. "My other cousin! He arrived in a...similar fashion as Morgan did."

"Oh? So this is Owain's brother, then?"

"Y-yeah, that's me," Brady muttered, having clearly recognized Xander's status due to his being in full armor and a crown and looking anywhere but them. Maribelle would have chastised him for being rude, but Laslow could tell he was just embarrassed. "Sorry for...dropping in. I was tryin' that spell Morgan did and it...uh...got all hot and...explode-y...I wasn't s'pposed to be messin' around with it, but, well." And now he was sniffling again, goddammit. "When I heard she was gone, I wanted to try it for myself."

"Fortunately he's a healer, so he reversed any possible brain damage he dealt me," Laslow put in flatly.

Xander took it all in for a moment before stepping forward, extending his hand for a shake. He smiled, a small, polite smile he used for meetings, but still more warm than the stale ones the royal family always had to plaster on when snobby nobility visited. "I must thank you for that, then. Your cousin is a valued retainer here in Nohr. We are happy to have you."

"Uh...thanks," Brady replied, the epitome of awkward, which made Laslow want to cover his face as his cousin shook his liege's hand. But the crying was averted, for now, so that was good. "If I may ask...uh...where _is_ Owain? He was who I was focusin' on..."

"ALAS!"

Laslow cringed, a full-body shudder, at the great scream that nearly shook the mess hall itself. More than one person did, in fact.

"CAN IT BE?"

Xander grimaced, just a little, but he took it in stride, just like he'd taken Brady's...less than average constitution in stride, which Laslow really didn't need to think about, Xander getting along with his family-

"MY DEAR BROTHER, BRADY OF THE MOISTENED EYE!"

"Don't call me that!" Brady cried, offended, as Owain descended onto him out of nowhere. Literally, it seemed, almost. Laslow couldn't see where he had come from. He wrapped his arms around Brady's midsection, lifting him off his feet, and the man squawked. By that point, however, he was already crying. "You dumbhead! Why'd you just disappear off into nowhere for? I've been lookin' for you!"

He slapped Owain's head until he put him down so he could engage in a normal embrace, then locked his arms around Owain's shoulders and flat-out sobbed into his shirt. "I apologize, brother, I really do," Owain said, in a softer voice, putting his theatrics away for a moment. "I would have told you where I was going, or just said goodbye, if I had the chance, but it was rather sudden. I didn't even have a chance to take a change of clothes with me!"

Brady was ugly-crying as he pulled away and wiped at his face with his draping sleeves, sounding somehow both belligerent, happy for Owain's presence, and emotionally unstable at the same time. "S'at why you've got yer tits out for everyone to see? Ya know Ma is gonna have a hernia when she sees that, you know?"

Owain's smile took a nervous turn. "I am hoping she will be so overwhelmed by her happiness to see me she will overlook it completely."

Someone cleared their throat. They both paused and looked up, Owain appearing mildly sheepish when he realized it was Xander. "If you like, I'll have someone prepare a room for your brother, Owain," he offered. "Although, if people just keep appearing in the castle at random, we may very well run out, as large as this place is..."

Owain let out a chuckle. "I don't think that'll be a problem," Brady said with a frown, going back to holding his staff with that slight hunch Maribelle was always lecturing him about. "Uh, you know, like, who we are? Like Owain told you?"

"He did."

"Well, that's good...I guess...well, on our end, we're tryna make a portal-thing, I guess...some kinda entrance so we can visit each other without having to...well...do dangerous spells that drop us on people...I figure my uncle'll have it figured out pretty soon."

"Dad?" Laslow exclaimed, before he could stop himself, perking up. He didn't miss Xander looking to him with a curious air, but his excitement at seeing his fathers again overrode it.

"Yeah...he's havin' Aunt Tharja help him..."

All three of them grimaced a bit and let out a shudder. "Tharja?" Xander asked, confused.

"Best left to your imagination, my lord," Laslow said, almost sympathetically. "She's a dark mage. Talented, but I wouldn't want to be alone in a room with her. Ugh, creepy."

* * *

Hearing that something had happened in the dining hall- something that involved Laslow- and seeing him on the floor when he arrived had been more frightening than Xander had thought it would be. He knew he had a bit of a complex, about his retainers dying, that is, and it was why he so rarely sent them out on missions without at least a reliable group for backup; he just couldn't bare to see another die in his service. But at some point Laslow had become...different. Xander had learned to be calm, collected, even when everything was seemingly going to hell, but even as he strode towards the mess hall there was a sharp stinging sensation somewhere in his gut that felt like panic. It was a dangerous thing to feel for a retainer, more than he should have felt, but Laslow was his companion, his friend, his...

Xander hadn't wanted to confront his feelings so far, but he was fearing they were becoming more and more obvious by the day.

There were things about Laslow he knew. The person he was, at his core, even if his real name and origin was a mystery. His loyalty, his lightheartedness. But there were other things Xander didn't know, and he wanted to find them out- not through surveillance or spying, but through mere conversation. Most days, in this time of peace, he found himself just wanting to sit down with Laslow and talk and find out everything there was to know about him. He had been too indulgent; taking rides with him alone, inviting him to stay for a bite to eat when he had breakfast, showing up whenever the retainer was training and offering to spar. It really wasn't conductive to getting rid of these feelings he had, but he had realized- he didn't want to.

Laslow showed care for him. He wanted Xander to take care of himself, to realize his own wants; he told him to go to bed when he spent too long over paperwork or trying to figure out how to supply villages low on food with rations and brought him tea somehow when Xander wanted it without having to be asked. He was always there to support him. Xander was...fond of him.

So of course the notion that he should try and stamp that fondness out had occurred to him. He'd tried, but failed, because Laslow really was charming, to an ironic degree. For all he flirted and acted like a fop, under that mask was a charming, kind, intriguing man who had a sense of humor and could match people in wit.

At some point, he had realized, so what if he had these feelings? He was the King, and Nohr was in a new time of peace. He could do as he pleased- there were other ways to have children, to have heirs, to have a family. His only hesitation was the position it would put Laslow in. Xander would gut himself before making the man feel pressured, or as though he had to say yes just because Xander was the king. He had wondered if it was ethical at all, to ask something of his retainer like this, yet they had always been equals, from the day Laslow had first sparred with him and knocked Xander on his ass. And if he said yes, he would no longer be a retainer at all.

Laslow did so much to care for him that Xander wanted to return it. He wanted to care for Laslow in turn, to support him, to make him feel as though he didn't have to smile all the time for others. He had realized, eventually, that just because one smiled constantly didn't mean they were happy. When everyone looked away, that person's smile would fade, and they would be left in the shadows with only themselves for warmth. Xander wanted to provide Laslow with that warmth.

Just like now, as his retainer let Owain introduce Brady to an intrigued-looking Leo and Niles down the hall, and walked away with some kind of expression that read tension. He was stressed, anxious, worried. Xander often wondered how well he knew Laslow, felt guilty, almost, for not knowing him better, but it did bring him some sense of satisfaction to know that he _did_ know him, and he knew he was concerned.

He didn't try to hide his presence- he hardly needed to sneak around, let alone when trying to gain someone's trust- when he stepped onto the balcony Laslow had disappeared onto. He was leaning on the edge now, arms folded as he stared into the distance, something far away in his eyes.

"Laslow?"

Laslow jumped, then straightened up as he turned to him. "Oh, my lord," he said, looking surprised. "Did you need something?"

"I need nothing at all, Laslow," Xander replied, trying to set him at ease, but he still looked as though he was ready to jump into a mission. He had taken his armor off, leaving him in his casual wear, and tried himself to look more relaxed, folding his hands together and leaning on the balcony like Laslow had been. "I wanted to ask if you are all right?"

Just how surprised Laslow looked hurt a little bit. Xander had no doubt that his friends- and his family, wherever they were- cared about him, loved him, cared for his well-being, but something deep in his heart knew that wasn't a question Laslow heard often.

"Of course, my liege. There's nothing wrong."

Xander was quiet for a moment. He looked his retainer in the eyes, trying to discern his mood, and wasn't ashamed to admit there was something pleading in his own. "You can tell me, Laslow." He paused again. "I consider you my friend. I...would hope you consider me one, as well. Friends who can share each other's worries."

Laslow hesitated. He slowly returned to where he'd been leaning on the railing, eyes trailing on the city beyond the castle gates, and chewed on his lip. It was what he did when he was indecisive, Xander had noted. "Well...I do confess that it's just been a little...jarring, having my cousins appear so suddenly. Doesn't help they knocked me on my backside each time."

He chuckled, and Xander thanked the gods he'd loosened up just a little. "Is it the idea of a bridge being formed between our worlds?" he asked, hoping the question didn't make the other uncomfortable. "That you may be able to return home? From what you said, I thought it would make you happy; you would not have to choose between Nohr and Ylisse."

Laslow dipped his head and rubbed the back of his neck, a deep sigh wracking his frame. "...yeah," he admitted. "There's nothing... _bad,_ in my past, milord, I promise, it's just...I don't want things to...change."

"Change?"

Laslow turned his head to peer up at him. "Lord Xander, would knowing...particular things...about where I'm from...make you treat me any different? If I was...a different person?"

A crease formed in Xander's brow. He felt as though he had confirmed this before, more than once, but something about Laslow seemed so...insecure. "Nothing would make me change how I see you," he insisted, trying not to sound overly worried. Elise had lectured him on his tendency to be too overbearing when he was concerned about the people he cared for. "I swear it."

"Really?" Laslow frowned, his eyes searching, and Xander just knew there was something here, some important piece of information he was lacking. "No matter where I came from, _who_ I came from...you'd still see me the same?"

His hand, having a mind of its own, pressed against the stone he was leaning on until he was standing and reached out, startling Laslow again and making his eyes widen. It wasn't too bad of a scare, though, because he didn't jump or pull away when Xander's hand settled over one of his. "I know the person you are- a man that cares for his allies and friends and would give his life for them. Even if you were born in a den of thieves and spent your life up until you came here robbing manors I would look past it. What matters is who you are here and now."

Laslow stared at him. He looked genuinely touched; Xander was glad he was able to put at least some of his worries at ease, at least. His eyes slowly roamed down to Xander's hand, and his face pinkened, becoming more withdrawn again. This time, however, it was that expression that appeared when he was embarrassed. Or perhaps flustered was a better term. There were different kinds of these expressions: the kind of flustered he looked when people poked fun at him, the kind of flustered he looked when people paid him too many compliments. Something about the moment seemed quite soft, _fond_ , Xander felt, and it felt as though something like an electric charge had run through him. He couldn't help that his heart overflowed, and nurtured a root of hope, and reached out for someone it felt so attached to...

"...and I hope, even if it's selfish," he found himself saying, and it was selfish, he knew it, but he couldn't find the strength to say what he should have said ( _return to your home, return to your family_ ), "you will stay here, as my dear friend and companion."

Laslow finally looked back up at him. They were standing there now, staring at each other, Xander's hand still warm over his, and he realized just how long it had been with an even deeper flush. He pulled away, though not quickly, rubbing the back of his neck again as he turned his eyes to the doorway. "...I...I do want to stay here, Xander, it _would_ make me quite happy..."

"There will always be a place for you."

Laslow glanced at him and smiled. He chuckled, trying to play off the awkwardness of the conversation with a bit of humor, and Xander gave himself just a bit of credit, since he'd predicted it. "Haha, well, it's nice to always have a job somewhere, isn't it?"

"You would be quite welcome even if you had no duties whatsoever," Xander assured him, some type of intensity in his eyes that made Laslow swallow. "You would be free to stay here, as our companion. Nothing would be required."

Laslow swallowed again, heat gradually rising up his neck, those curious eyes of his trailing on the ground again. Laslow's eyes were always his, his emotions shining through so easily, but Xander had always felt they should look just a bit different.

"Well...I'd be happy then, too." He glanced up at the sky, putting on one of those standard grins of his, but it was weaker than usual. "Ah, looks like it's nearing time for me to head down and meet Severa to spar...if you'll excuse me!"

He darted into the palace with impressive red on his face. Xander stood there for a while, taking in the sensation of the breeze blowing gently against his face, feeling the hand of his that had touched Laslow's for so long. There was a fading warmth there, one that made him want to touch him again. To draw him even closer, perhaps. To embrace him, to hold him...

 _Ask_ , his mind urged, already flipping through the mental catalogue of blossoms that grew grey he knew of. _Ask_.

 _I'm going to_ _ask,_ he thought, knowing deep down that spark of connection he felt wasn't one-sided. Laslow kept his heart on his sleeve. When he was upset, or embarrassed, or happy, anyone could tell, and Xander wanted to pick a choice that would make his face light up in pleasure.

He was the _king_ now, after all. If he was sending flowers to somebody, it could hardly be unimpressive.

* * *

The truth was, Laslow- Inigo- was scared.

A permanent portal meant that he could see his family again, that was true. And the idea did elate him! What he would give to be able to feel his mother's embrace again...yet, at the same time, it scared him. Because that meant his old world- his old friends and his family- and this new one would merge, his two lives would become intertwined, and he would have to face the changes.

The rational part of his brain told him he was being silly. How bad could this be? And the irrational (yet intelligent) side told him exactly why he was so scared, and it was a giant walking around with a legendary sword and no idea of how he made Inigo's heart feel.

 _Why won't you return home?_ someone would eventually ask, when he wouldn't leave Xander's side, and somehow, someway, it would come out, and how would Xander look at him then? Would he be disgusted? Would he send Laslow away? Would he reject him?

And yet he treated Laslow so tenderly.

Especially after he'd figured out Laslow usually wasn't the one who caused trouble in town, and just had hilariously bad luck that his family had made fun of him for forever. If anything, he'd seemed to go above and beyond since then to ensure Laslow was satisfied with life. Was there anything he needed? Anything he wanted? A day off here, a delicacy reserved for the royalty's pantries there? Honestly, he was stealing Laslow's job at this point.

_There will always be a place for you._

That afternoon, after sparring with Severa and watching her trot off to meet Camilla for some sort of outing, he wandered around a bit before hiding out in his horse's stall. He just didn't know quite how to react to it all- these confusing feelings, the signals Xander was (or wasn't?) giving off, how crazy he must have been if he thought the king was more interested in him than being his friend. Some shameful part of his brain was very quite hopeful about it. It would just be charming, wouldn't it? A king seeking his affections and attention.

...there was also that whole bit he'd inherited from his mother, how hard it actually was for Laslow to interact with people genuinely. The flirting? Easy, he never meant it seriously, and he was used to it. When he was on the receiving end he was almost exactly like his mother. Well, maybe a little better off than she was, since he had been flirted with a few times since coming to Nohr, and he was very certain he'd improved from "run away panicking" to "stammer through a polite rebuff."

...the running away incident had happened during one of his friendly competitions with Saizo, who'd found him hiding behind a bush with his shield over his head, and that had been particularly embarrassing. Laslow hadn't even intended for them to flirt, he only meant to charm the locals and make them more comfortable around the royalty's retainers, but as soon as a man came at him in a flirtatious way he'd just bolted. Gods, that had been embarrassing. Saizo had told him he was "surprisingly enough, a crybaby," which had made Laslow actually start crying, and the man had stood there swearing for about ten minutes before he convinced Laslow to come out from behind the bush. He was still gruff, but surprisingly apologetic, and, dare say, actually friendlier afterward. He'd even promised not to tell anyone.

Liva poked at his head. He'd named the mare after his mother, and usually braided a little pink flower into its mane if he could find one, so it would match his own colors even if they were hidden. She stared down at him judgmentally, as if to say _stop crouching in the corner of my room and leave._

Laslow huffed. "Fine," he said, giving her a pat to the head before standing and exiting the stall. Despite the reputation of barns in general, the royal stables were kept quite clean, and only smelled of fresh alfalfa and the oil servants used to shine the equipment. It was a comforting smell; it reminded him of the stables in Ylisse.

It was almost evening by the time he returned to the castle. He made his way up the floors to the hall his chambers were in, passing a maid on the way, and she giggled at him as she passed. Confused, he paused to glance behind after her, but she broke into a jog to get away and stifled another laugh. Raising an eyebrow, he continued on his way and wondered if Owain and Brady had set up some prank for him. Brady had only been there for a few hours, but he wouldn't put it past them.

He rounded the corner and came to a screeching halt, heart thudding in his chest when he realized what was the source of the maid's humor. Standing there, in front of his chambers, in a vaguely chilling round of deja vu, were two of the guards, holding a large, impressive bouquet. They were some type of flower he'd seen before- agapanthus, he was fairly certain they were called, only because Elise was obsessed with flower types and he often went out to guard her when she scouted for them.

These were the white kind, but they also bloomed in blue- which hit a little too close to home- and there was just enough of a tint to make them appear grey. Just like...his current hair.

"From your admirer," one of the knights said, holding them out to him.

There was a lump in Laslow's throat. He held up his hands, reaching out to take them, but hesitated a little, wondering just how this worked. They weren't depositing them and then just disappearing, like they had with Owain and Severa, because those two had already started their relationships. "Wh-which...is...?"

The knight stared him straight in the face. "The King."

Laslow's heart did some kind of maneuver he was half-convinced he needed to get to the medical wing for.

"O-oh," he said, distantly hearing his own voice, and the other knight nervously approached as if he needed to be ready to catch him. "I...um..."

The first knight placed the bouquet into his arms. It was almost large enough to shield his face, so that was one plus to this. Eyes glued to the far wall, he felt his face heating up. "Thank...thank you," he finally breathed out, controlling the stammer he knew wanted to come out.

The guards glanced at each other. "Do you...require any help, sir?" one of them asked, sounding awkward, and it broke him out of his state.

"N-no thank you! I'm fine!" Hurriedly, he went to his chambers, red in the face, and slipped inside. Then he simply stood there, leaning on the door, heart pounding as he stared off into space. The flowers were beautiful, thoughtful, so light but feeling so heavy in his hands. After a few moments he came to a realization, and it made his face heat up even further, as he slid slowly down and down until his backside hit the floor, and he sat there with the flowers in his lap, staring at them.

_I just...accepted, didn't I?_

There was a variety of emotions rushing through him- intense embarrassment, a sense that he should regret this, that he shouldn't have done it, total euphoria, a bit of confusion; he wondered what this meant, how he was supposed to proceed.

 _Oh, god,_ he thought, rubbing his face. _I accepted them._

But how could he not? That would have meant trampling all over Xander's heart, and he couldn't do _that_!

... _his heart? Does he really think of me that way?_

The flowers in his lap were proof enough, were they not? Unless someone had decided to pull a very cruel practical joke on him. But those had been captains he'd recognized out there, men Xander trusted, and they couldn't have been bribed into this.

He had no idea how he was going to handle this, but his heart just wouldn't allow him to deny it, so he supposed he had to face it no matter how nervous he was.


	5. Chapter 5

Xander was determined. About more than anything he'd ever been determined about in his life, well, except for maybe retrieving Corrin after he thought she'd been kidnapped. But it was the morning, and that meant that Laslow had received his flowers by now, and his captains reported that he _had_ accepted them.

He had realized something even further during the night. He wanted Laslow badly. His companionship, his smiles. His gentle hands guiding Xander away from his desk at night, but as a lover, not as a servant. He wanted to know everything about him, and he wanted Laslow to stay, instead of returning to his own chambers at night. Xander thought of what it would feel like. A warm body in his bed, feeling Laslow's breath come easy beside him, listening to the beat of his heart and ensuring it kept going. 

He wanted Laslow.

Laslow was hardly to be found that morning, however, so he went directly to the man's chambers. If there was one thing he had began to suss out, it was that he was very shy. Under the bantering and fake flirting, he was incredibly easy to fluster, and he was probably hiding away somewhere metaphorically biting his nails. 

He knocked once, twice, thrice. 

The door swung open. Laslow wore his easygoing, friendly smile reserved for strangers, and opened his mouth in the middle of "Is there something I-" before he took note of Xander standing there, quite imposing in all his armor, and froze, stumbling over his own tongue. "X-Xander, o-oh, I, uh, I wasn't- um- uh-"

"May I come in?" Xander asked, feeling a thrum of nervousness course through his own skin. Red in the face, Laslow stepped aside, glad to not have to say anything as Xander stepped into his chambers.

His eyes immediately fell on the large silver bouquet sitting in the window, set into an ornate vase with a pitcher of water beside them. Well taken care of. Arranged with care. His heart bumped in his chest as he swallowed and turned around. Laslow, still flushed, was looking anywhere but him. 

"I...Laslow," he began, clearing his throat. "I...assume you know what the gifting of a bouquet means, in the royal family."

"Uh...yes. After Severa and Owain got some, of course," Laslow murmured, rubbing at his ear. "And Corrin had to explain it to me. But I did...last night..."

He heard a deep breath exit Xander's lungs as the man took a step closer to him. "And...accepting that bouquet. Obviously, I would accept without a thought if you had second thoughts, but you...?"

Laslow's ears burned. He closed his eyes and rubbed his ear again, willing them to open, and momentarily damning the shy genes he'd gotten from his mother. 

"You feel...?"

"Yes," he replied, even quieter. He wondered if this is why his mother had stayed single so long. Maybe it was just easier, the celibate life. "I...I was afraid...you would be uncomfortable, milord, but...as we grew closer...I just..." He trailed off and rubbed his eyes. 

"I am far from uncomfortable. In fact, I worried about making _you_ uncomfortable. However-" Xander veered closer to him again, and Laslow forced himself to open his eyes and raise his head. _Have some courage, dammit!_ A single silver flower was being held out to him, and Xander's expression was so open, so vulnerable, that Laslow crumbled to pieces. "I could not deny how I felt. I would be honored if you would accept that...you are something more to me now."

Heart in his throat, Laslow slowly reached up and grasped the silver bloom in his hand. Even calloused from years of battle, Xander's hands somehow felt soft. He folded his hand over Laslow's as soon as he took the flower, leaning down and pressing a long kiss to his knuckles that made his face go up in flames again. 

After what felt like an age and a half, Xander looked up at him, eyes half distant. Like he was staring beyond Laslow and dreaming of him instead.

An intense, irrepressible urge took ahold of him. Even though it made him anxious, and frankly, vaguely scared, Laslow cleared his throat and averted his eyes, biting his lip for a few seconds before speaking. "Uh- I, milord-"

"Xander, please."

"I...I, Xander, my...name. I...I want to...give it to you."

He saw, out of the corner of his eye, Xander's eyebrows raise in surprise. "I would love to know it," he murmured, still close to his hand.

"It's-" Laslow's throat closed for a moment after years of training himself not to utter the words. He closed his eyes again, pressing his head against the wall. "...Inigo."

Xander's hand tightened on his. "Inigo," he murmured, and Laslow could _feel_ it. There was a tingling in his hair, in his eye, and he felt a flush of magic spread over him and then disappear forever. 

Xander's surprised gasp made him open his eyes. Anxiously, Laslow- Inigo- looked at him. He raised the hand not holding Inigo's own and reached for a strand of blue hair intertwined with the pink sprouting from part of his left side. 

"You're beautiful, Inigo," he said, making Inigo's face feel hot for what felt like the hundredth time. "And I daresay Peri will be happy that your hair is so similar."

Despite the intense embarrassment coursing through him, Inigo smiled.

Xander straightened. He was still staring at him, but something about his expression had turned thoughtful. Some of the nervousness bled back.

"Uh...Xander? Is- is something wrong?"

"A false name and appearance," Xander murmured, looking at his face like it was a puzzle. "And didn't you once ask me about royal families having brands, Inigo?"

He froze.

_Oh. Yeah._

The Mark of the Exalt, shining bright in his eye.

"Oh," he breathed, biting into his lip. "Uh..."

"I think my mother would slap me, if she were alive, having another of royal blood serve as a retainer," Xander thought aloud, raising a hand to caress the side of his face and stare at the eye with the mark in it. "Would you have me know how to properly refer to you?"

"As Inigo," Inigo muttered sullenly, making Xander smile at him, as he glanced out the window. "But...you've heard the story. I simply...left out the details concerning...this. And, well, ignoring the confusion from the time travel, and knowing my own younger self...my father is the Exalt."

Xander's hand halted in his progress through the tufts of hair near his ear. "Oh?" he asked, a bit of teasing slipping into his voice. "You're saying I have a prince to court?"

" _Xander._ "

Xander smiled at him, completely unapologetic, and reached for his waist, pulling him closer. Inigo's heart thudded in his chest. But the only thing the man did was brush his bangs aside, smiling mischievously. "Worry not. I will find the most extravagant of gifts for you."

"Xander!"

The King's laughter was unheard by the rest of the castle. And yet, Inigo didn't try to chastise him, because it was like music to his ears.

* * *

The next time he saw Owain, the man looked a little embarrassed. That was a rare thing, so Inigo immediately hunted him down and cornered him in an alley outside.

"Well? What's this?"

Owain turned and pouted at him. There were black bracelets around his wrists, along with a completely silver ring on his finger featuring a glowing black stone, and a circlet around his head, showing off dangling jewelry. He wore a necklace, too, over a choker that looked similar to the rest of the Nohrian jewelry.

"Leo says I should look befitting of a prince."

"And that's...?"

"A betrothed ring, I guess," Owain murmured, fiddling with it. "If you ask me, he's just being possessive. But more importantly, I see _you_ told our King your name, Inigo. Am I right to assume?"

Inigo's face burned. "Maybe," he muttered, making Owain smirk at him. "Shut up."

"Get ready, cousin."

"Shut up, Owain!"

* * *

When he entered the dining hall the next meal, two guards parted the way for him. Pausing in apprehension, Inigo realized there was a table that Owain and Severa were sitting at and waving him over to- with a guard posted next to it- a _royal_ table- and that was now where he was supposed to sit, not being a retainer anymore. His mortification reached a new level when he passed Xander, who was on his way up to the map room to plan supply routes, who made sure to pause and give him a kiss to the knuckles before he left, and he did his best to hide his face as he went to dinner. 

Getting corralled into marrying a King. He may have thought it would be romantic, but he was also starting to think his bad luck string was still going. Gods, how was he going to tell his family about this? They would _never let it go._


	6. Chapter 6

Things had been going well. Almost like a dream.

Xander took him out for a ride nearly every single day. He was happier, more at ease, and that put Inigo at ease, and he found himself smiling for real more. Xander even took him out for a _picnic_ , once, and though he'd sat there for a while anxious to all hell, he'd eventually calmed down when Xander eased a hand around his torso, holding him with just a bit of distance. Somehow he sensed that Inigo needed to take this just a bit slow. He was literally walking perfection.

Owain and Severa were happier nowadays, too, now that they held no secrets. Like him, they no longer had formal duties, but just sort of...kept doing certain things. It was habit, and they didn't want to have nothing to do. 

"You're going steady with the King?" Morgan asked him, in the middle of mealtime, with her plate still in her hands, well within earshot of their entire table. "That's great! Now you'll stop getting drugged and abducted by dates!"

Inigo pressed his hands over his face and wished and prayed for his sister to shut up as Niles snickered and Owain hid his grin behind a roll of bread. Severa was smirking down at her stew, though Camilla wasn't even trying to hide the fact she was chuckling like Elise. And Leo and Xander, they weren't looking at them, but Inigo just _knew_ they were snickering, in their identical stone-faced way. 

"Morgan, please shut up."

"Seriously. I was starting to worry Daddy dropped you as a baby. Remember that time when we were thirteen and we were playing the knights rescues the prince again and you pretended to get kidnapped by bandits but there were actually bandits in the woods so Gerome had to come rescue you anyway-"

Inigo felt his ears burning. "We were kids!"

Morgan giggled. "But still! Gerome's been rescuing you forever! Actually, it's kind of a weird coincidence he always played the knight in those games no matter who the prince or princess was..."

"Morgan, it's because Gerome could skewer someone through the head since he was three."

"Oh, well, I suppose. I guess being the best wyvern knight in the army means something after all..."

Inigo pressed his palms into his eyes. Feet away, Owain let out a hoot. "It's true! Ah, I miss Gerome."

"Yeah, yeah, perfect Gerome," Severa replied crankily, huffing. "Never-misses-a-target-Gerome. Always-finishes-his-missions-Gerome. The prince's-personal-guard-Gerome. I _so_ miss him."

"Dear Severa, don't be coy...you don't need to hide how much you miss him with fake jealousy!"

Severa let out a growl and threw her bowl at him. Owain ducked, and Niles caught it above his head before it hit an unsuspecting bystander. "This Gerome sounds skilled," he simpered, making Severa glare at him. "Did you have a crush on him?"

"God, ew, no! He's my _brother_!"

"Ah, I see! Well, did _you_ have a crush on him, Owain?"

"Oh, when I was younger. We all had a crush on Gerome phase. Except for Cynthia. She is also his sister."

"Wait, what-"

It was at that precise moment part of the dining hall exploded.

Fortunately, it was an empty part. But Inigo was facing it, and all he saw was a bright pulse of heat before fire was building up and racing out towards the outer reaches of the room, making everyone there screech and duck down. He grabbed Morgan and threw himself to the floor, wincing when he heard a table that had been sent flying hit hte wall, and waved his hand to get rid of some of the smoke starting to waft down in front of his face.

Even still, he coughed as he pushed himself to his knees. Explosion turned out not to be quite the right word- the room wasn't completely obliterated, it was just as if a mass of magic had combusted in the middle and let out a recoil that would have surely knocked him out if he'd been standing closer. 

But, as the smoke cleared, he caught sight of a familiar blue head of hair.

"Speak!" the blue-haired figure roared at the trembling servant who had unfortunately been caught in the middle of the blast, pointing her sword at him. It must have been like the eye of a hurricane, calm in the middle. "What is the name of this land? Is this the land of Nohr? I will have my siblings brought to me at once, knave!"

She slammed her foot into a broken table. The servant shrieked again. 

Before Inigo could do anything, his other sister leapt out from under him and went rushing forward, letting out an enthusiastic wail. "Luciiiiii!" She threw herself upon the figure of Lucina, who jerked back in surprise.

 _Ugh._ Rushing to his feet, Inigo ran forward and gave the servant an apologetic look. "Lucina," he said, more clearly, making his sister's head snap around. "It's me."

"Morgan," Lucina exclaimed, both relief and surprise settling across her face. "Inigo! Are you both all right? I wasn't expecting the spell to take me right to you..."

"We're quite all right, I assure you. Now please stop pointing Falchion at that poor man's face. I swear we are in friendly territory."

Lucina seemed to realize she was still threatening what looked like a kitchen cook and withdrew Falchion with a pointedly less threatening look. "My apologies," she said to the man after Morgan had let her go, giving the slightest of bows. "This sword is meant for slaying evil, not threatening an ally. This was my mistake."

"Th...thank you, I suppose," the cook murmured, subtly scooting back and out of the spotlight. Lucina turned back to him. Her face drew together in concern as she looked him up and down.

"You look different," she said, though her relief was back in full force. "But...good. I am glad you're all right."

"COUSIN! SLAYER OF EVIL! HOLDER OF THE DRAGON'S FANG! IT _IS_ YOU!"

Lucina winced slightly, but only at the sudden volume, as Owain came flying forward and struck a pose in front of her. He looked up with a dazzling grin, a glint in his eye. "Owain," she greeted happily, stepping forward and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Naga's blessing that you are here as well. Although...what on earth are you wearing?"

Owain's face fell into the slightest of pouts. "Is everyone back home going to ask me that?"

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You are very extravagant."

"Aha! Lucina gets it!"

The most intense of the smoke was finally clearing up. Two other figures were there, having easily gone mostly unnoticed considering they were both two of the quietest members of the group their generation had formed. Inigo perked up when Gerome stepped out of the smoke, face utterly blank, with Noire cowering beside him.

"Uhm, h-hello, Inigo, Owain," she murmured, eyes darting nervously about. "It's nice to see you again..."

It was then Inigo remembered they had an audience. An undoubtedly curious one, if not concerned, and he turned around to find their table gazing at them with a variety of looks. Niles looked supremely interested, head tilted into his hand as he bit into an apple, while Leo was narrowing his eyes at them like they were a puzzle to study and Camilla and Elise looked on curiously. Xander had stood up, looking both cautious and like he wanted to come closer.

"Uh, right," Inigo stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guys, shouldn't we..."

Letting out an exaggerated huff, Severa rolled her eyes and pointed. "Guys, that's Lucina, Inigo and Morgan's sister, and that's Gerome and Noire. I'm guessing this is another portal experiment that fortunately didn't end with someone landing on Inigo. Is that enough explanation?"

"As blunt as ever, sister," Gerome said, unreadable behind his mask, making her twitch and stand up from her seat, glaring at him.

"Shut up, Gerome! Did you volunteer to get blasted into another dimension, or something?"

"Actually, precisely that."

"W-well, whatever. It's not like I missed you..."

Camilla looked like a curious cat as Severa sat down with a flush and pouted at the table. 

Inigo caught a glance of an interesting sight out of the corner of his eye. Corrin, with Azura and a few Hoshidans, had been visiting- sitting at a different table, for that particular meal- and she was watching them closely, looking curious, like she wanted to come over and start asking question after question. Except she was staring at Lucina specifically, and fiddling with a part of her cape, and there was the slightest of blushes to her cheeks. 

Inigo gave his sister a measuring glance. Everyone else there- the servants and staff, those visiting from elsewhere, the knights and soldiers- were being respectfully silent and not looking Lucina directly in the face. He realized that she was the picture of royalty, to a Nohrian; from the subtle crown on her head to her armor and her stance, the way she held herself, full of quiet confidence and the expectation of respect. The difference between her and most royals was that she offered it first instead of expecting it instantaneously. It was clear, too, that she was a warrior, not just because of the sword on her hip. 

It was then he heard the light clinking of Xander's armor as he approached. He stopped a few feet away, bowing his head for a moment, and offered his hand. "I am Xander, King of Nohr. I am happy to welcome more of Inigo and Severa's relatives to the castle, and I assure you you'll find no enemies here. Your friends have proven themselves to be trustworthy companions of ours."

It only cemented her impression that Lucina reached out to shake his hand without hesitation, not appearing the least bit intimidated by his towering height. "Thank you. I apologize for the...entrance. Our portal magic is...unrefined at the moment. I can work out a way to compensate you for this-"

"Not at all, it is quite unnecessary. The damage is merely superficial."

"Well, if you say so. If it wouldn't be too much trouble, may I ask that we lodge here temporarily? Only until my father completes his research, and then I am sure that we will be able to communicate between our worlds without being stranded..."

"Of course! I wouldn't think of turning you away."

Inigo stared at them. He felt himself reddening, coming to two realizations: Lucina had no idea she was talking to a man who'd given him a feather-light kiss that morning, and they were...both so _polite_. They were actually kind of alike. "Oh my _god_..."

Lucina and Xander turned to look at him in sync. "Inigo?" Lucina asked, raising her eyebrow. 

Reddening further when he heard Owain snickering, Inigo pressed his face into his hands. _How is this my life?_

* * *

"She's so... _queenly,_ " Corrin whispered, twiddling her fingers together as she peeked into the large hall the Nohrians and Ylisseans had migrated into. She wasn't quite hiding, but she had hung back.

Behind her, Azura let out something between a light sigh and a chuckle. "Do you want to be her, or do you _like_ her?"

"Can I say both?"

Azura smiled. She came up beside her adopted sister and stared at the princess ahead of them who was talking to Inigo, being filled in on his adventures. "I would surmise she's just as strong as Inigo, maybe even stronger than him and Xander if she is the one who can wield such a blade. A sword crafted from the fang of a divine dragon...it sounds quite fairy-tale like."

"She can kill dragons, and you _are_ a dragon," Subaki interjected cheerfully from behind. "Ah, yes, I can see it. A match made in heaven."

There was a bout of crying as Owain's brother came down from the medical wing where he'd been studying and saw even more of his old companions had arrived. It all felt a bit personal, hence why Corrin found herself keeping her distance for the moment. 

"Personally, I want to know more about mister dark and broody over there," Subaki added with a smile, leaning all the way around them to get a glimpse of the man lingering in the shadows. He was hard to spot, being he wore all black. "I've heard so much about him!"

Corrin rolled her eyes. "You just want to see who's the better between the two of you."

"I admit I wouldn't mind a bout, but I'm genuinely curious! Why, it's like we're polar opposites. Light and dark. A wyvern and a pegasus. Clearly he needs to smile some-"

"Subaki, please do not attempt to make that man smile."

"Why, Azura, afraid his face will get stuck that way?"

"I am afraid he may stab you with that spear of his."

"Well, that just hurts, the insinuation I would be unskilled enough to not see such a large weapon coming..." 


End file.
